My Inferno
by Rubisco
Summary: He didn't know if he could keep that cold mask of indifference in place, didn't know if he could face any more pain....Strong AU, Taito
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, but I would REALLY like to have Yamato....*sigh* some day, perhaps... 

Author's Note: Tai is in this story, as well as Yama, this is very angst, but I'm just wondering........Taito?? Anyone?? I didn't really plan on having romance in here at all, but if anyone want it to turn into a Taito, review and let me know. There's some violence in here, and please don't flame me because I made Yama's family mean. I just needed to do that to make the story work. 

Oh, and Orcus is the Roman name for Death; I couldn't remember Yamato's father's name. 

  


My Inferno 

"…Really, Yamato, your cooking hasn't improved one bit, in fact," here the woman took a bit of potato, tasting it gingerly, "it has gotten positively worse."   
The boy kept his face as blank as possible.   
It was just another knife, another cold, sharp blade Mother had chosen to stick through his heart. He had felt them before; he could feel them again.   
"I almost wish we were still married. As much as I dislike you, Orcus, you deserve better food."   
Father chuckled coldly, mirthlessly.   
The knife twisted deeper; Yamato bit his lip. They insisted that these, these dinners, were held for the broken family to keep in touch, for Grandma and Grandpa to see their grandsons, but Yamato had concluded, a long time ago, that they were nothing more than an opportunity to torture him.   
As if he didn't get enough of that from Father.   
"Excuse me," he said softly, getting out of his chair and walking down the hall, leaving his plate untouched.   
Yamato's cold, expressionless mask melted as the bathroom door closed, and he sighed softly.   
No, he would not cry, not here, not now. But deep inside him, Yamato knew he wouldn't cry later, either. He knew he would _never_ cry, because he could only cope with his life if he remained emotionless, heartless, if he pretended to be inhuman.   
He looked up into the mirror.   
Deep blue sapphire eyes stared back at him, a strand of shining golden hair falling into them. Yes, he was beautiful, had the face of an angel.   
But that beauty was diminished, darkened, by the thinness and the paleness of his face, by the dark shadows under his dulled eyes.   
Yamato leaned against the sink. He wanted desperately to go to bed, to curl up under his thin blanket, even if it meant facing the nightmares, even if it meant waking up in a cold sweat. But first there was the dinner, the apartment to clean, tomorrow's meals to prepare, the pile of homework on his desk.   
And Father's wrath.   
Yamato shivered. His body ached still from the night before; it hadn't had a chance to heal.   
It never did.   
"Yamato!"   
The boy flinched. He didn't know if he could keep that mask of cold indifference in place, didn't know if he had enough strength to face another night of unbearable agony.   
"Yes," Mother was saying as he returned to the table, "Takeru has been doing extraordinarily well at school…"   
Her eyes rested on her older son as he took his seat, searching, trying to see if she had gotten to him.   
_Well you haven't_, he thought, gazing steadily back at her, eyes dry.   
But the tiny flame of anger within him died quickly. Fury could no longer numb him or shield him from the pain, nothing could.   
"Your teachers must all adore you," said Grandma, directing her loving smile at Yamato's younger brother, "who wouldn't? Such a kind, talented boy, and we are so very proud of you."   
Takeru smiled back, then looked straight at Yamato. The hatred and loathing in that look was like poison, and Yamato felt something inside him shatter.   
He loved his brother, with all his heart. Takeru was the only one Yamato had allowed himself to love. Yamato had willingly given him the power to hurt him, and Takeru had betrayed him, had turned out to be one of _them_.   
Yamato allowed no change to come over his face, but his hand gripped the table, so tight that his knuckles were white. He held his breath, willing himself to stay together, for the rest of the evening at least.   
Hours dragged by like years, and an eternity had come and gone before he was finally left alone.   
_ Alone_, he smiled bitterly, _I am alone_.   


************************* 

Good? Bad?? Review??? Plllllleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssseeee?   
Thanks for reading. 

Rubisco 

P.S. Other chapters will be WAY longer, I just wanted some feed back before posting more. ^_^   
  



	2. Chapter Two

Standard Disclaimer: Blah blah blah don't own Digimon blah blah blah yada yada yada... 

Author's Note: First of all, THANK YOU to all of those who reviewed. *feels all warm and fuzzy inside* I live on feedback, and the more reviews I get, the more I write *cough hint cough* As for the Taito thing, um, majority rules, so I guess this fic is now officially a Taito. Which leads us to.... 

The Standard Warning thingy: Blah blah blah yaoi stuff in this fic so PLEASE don't flame me because I'm warning you right now....blah blah blah yada yada yada... 

In response to individual reviews: 

shadow-seraph: Thanks for telling me about the anonymous review thing, I had no idea. 

Burned Vamp: UPDATE YAMA SUTRA!! NOW!!! I'm still waiting for the next chapter.... 

Shi: Nope, no rape in this story... 

And without further delay, we shall start with more angst and Yama goodness!   
  
  
  


My Inferno 

"Men great of soul can bear the blows of heaven and not flinch."   
He laughed a little at that.   
"Theseus, you have no idea."   
Yamato put the book aside and grabbed his coffee, taking a sort of savage pleasure in the way the hot, black, and bitter liquid burned his throat.   
_Still alive_ _then, not dead, and this isn't really hell, just life._   
New lyrics? Ishida Yamato the poet?   
Life sucked.   
There was a knock on the door, "Ishida! Hurry it up; it's almost time."   
Ah yes, time to face the hundreds of screaming adoring fans, time to let the world hear his voice once more. The only thing was, he'd rather not.   
Life really sucked.   
He took a last look in the mirror before existing the dressing room. He thought he looked okay, a bit pale, but otherwise calm, in control.   
As cold as ice.   
They screamed when he strode on stage, eyes, so many eyes on him. For a moment the mask faltered, and a little of his tiredness showed through.   
Only for a moment.   
Clutching his guitar a little tighter, Yamato turned to the rest of his band and nodded. It was going to be another long night.   
_Should have taken more coffee..._

_***********************************_

Yagami Taichi was bored.   
He didn't understand Chemistry, never had, never will, plus he didn't think his teacher liked him very much. It might have something to do with that incident in the bathroom...   
He hadn't _meant_ to blow up the toilet. Nobody had bothered to tell him about the nasty chemical reaction; he thought he was making bubbles.   
Bubbles and foam, what fun.   
"Yagami."   
Was it trouble he smelled? Probably.   
"In light of recent events," the teacher said, one eye twitching as she looked at him, "I've decided NOT to trust you to work safely on your own."   
Snickers from the class.   
"And so, you will be assigned a partner for this project. In fact, you will be working with Ishida Yamato."   
The room was suddenly silent. Taichi became _very_ aware of the many death glares sent his way, and not just from the girls.   
Ishida Yamato, THE Ishida Yamato. Taichi tried not to fall off his chair.   
"The rest of you," continued the teacher, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room, "may form your groups and get started."   
Taichi watched in morbid fascination as the god detached himself from his desk, strode over to a nearby chair, and dropped himself into it with all the grace of the universe.   
Icy blue eyes met his, and Taichi suddenly felt cold.   
"Which topics did you want to cover?"   
No greeting, no introduction, no smile, nothing.   
"Uh," Taichi tried desperately to remember which unit they were doing.   
"Do you even _know_ what the project is about?"   
"Well, not really..."   
"I thought so." 

************************************* 

_Get home, cook dinner, do laundry, clean bathroom, finish Physics lab, study for Math test, write English essay._   
Yamato took the stairs two at a time. There's no way in hell he was getting all that stuff done, but Ishida Yamato was incredibly stubborn, and he wasn't going to admit defeat until he absolutely had to.   
Still, band practice had gone over time and he was horribly behind schedule.   
_Dinner_, he thought frantically, fumbling with his keys, _dinner dinner dinner_.   
Father was going to be home any minute now, and if dinner's not ready...   
He pushed the thought away.   
Yamato had rushed into the kitchen, and was just putting a pot over the stove when he saw the note.   
Father was gone...business trip...be back in one week...   
Seven whole days.   
No need to cook dinner, no need to be afraid, no need to feel his bones crack as his body was slammed repeatedly against the wall...   
And Yamato hated himself for feeling relieved, hated himself for the weakness that made him sink slowly down to his knees, hated being vulnerable, hated being hurt over and over again in so many different ways.   
There was no one to trust, nothing to cling to, no where to be safe. It was like fighting an entire ocean that was determined to drag him down, and each day only brought him a little closer to drowning, a little closer to dying, without ever reaching that goal.   
The world was cruel, so very cruel, to give him this one week, to give him hope, to let him heal, mend, only to be broken again, and again, and again.   
If only he wasn't so damn proud, then maybe he could end his life, end his pain. But his pride was all he had left, and he wasn't going to throw it away, wasn't going to give the world the satisfaction of knowing it had broken him, defeated him.   
A deep, long sigh escaped him as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself, offering what little comfort he could to his own tortured body.   
One week to get better, one week to rest, one week to salvage what he could of his life.   
Yamato reached out a hand to grab the edge of the counter, pulling himself once more to his feet. Forget the homework, the endless stream of Physics and Math; he was going to bed. He'll take a sleeping pill if he had to for the dreams to go away, a shower if that's what it'll take for his muscles to relax, but he was going to sleep.   
And maybe, just maybe, he'll let himself live. 

************************************ 

Yagami Taichi had always thought himself a natural leader, had always prided himself on his ability to see through almost anyone, had always delighted in the way people were willingly, helplessly, drawn to him.   
Which made it very difficult for him to understand exactly WHY Ishida Yamato was ignoring him.   
If Taichi didn't know better, he would have almost _sworn_ the boy wasn't human. As far as looks go, Yamato was fire and ice and everything else that made the world beautiful, but no one could possibly be so empty of heart, so utterly _devoid_ of emotion.   
And now, glancing again in his companion's direction, Taichi decided to take another brave stab at conversation.   
"So, what did you think of the test in Chem?"   
Yes, he, the greatest soccer star to ever walk in this world, was reduced to talking about _school_, of all things.   
Yamato shrugged, still studying a nearby post with that calm, detached air of his, "Think I failed it."   
Cold, arrogant, _and_ cruel. Taichi decided he didn't want to get too close to this strange creature, and unconsciously took a step back.   
Yamato's lips curved slightly, not nearly enough to form a smile, but Taichi couldn't help thinking the blonde was _glad_ to have made him uncomfortable. It was almost like Taichi was being pushed away on purpose.   
Their bus finally came, and the two boys clambered on with the rest of the crowd, Taichi keeping a careful eye on Yamato the entire time.   
It wasn't until later that Taichi's opinion of the blonde began to change.   
Maybe it was the quick, certain way Yamato moved to let an elderly man take his own seat, maybe it was how he gripped that metal bar far too tightly, as if letting go would make him fall, drop endlessly downwards, and maybe it was the tiny ache inside Taichi's own chest that told him he wanted to drown in those deep, ocean blue eyes more than anything else, if only he could but catch a glimpse of the secrets they held...   
Ishida Yamato was hiding something, and Taichi wanted to find out why. 

************************************ 

Author's Note: I'm stopping here. Why? Because I keep re-reading this chapter from the beginning every time I write more, meaning that I find something wrong with it like every few minutes. I have picked it apart, put it back together, analysed it, ran comparisons between it and chapter one and being a perfectionist is NOT helping me. So before I go insane and decide I'm the world's most horrible writer and trash everything I've written so far, (and I'm getting pretty close to doing that) I'll start a new chapter where I CAN'T read the stuff written here.   
I am very critical of my own writing, and right now I absolutely HATE this chapter, so I'm posting it before I change my mind. If you agree with me, and think my writing is horrible, then by all means flame me, just please please review. Because I need to know people are actually reading this and want me to continue, or I might just end up trashing the story completely. 

Thanks for reading. 

Rubisco 


	3. Chapter Three

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. 

Author's Note: I did it! I updated! It's amazing! Thanks for all of your encouragement. 

My Inferno 

Chapter 3 

Yamato bit his lip. 

He wanted coffee. He wanted his guitar. He wanted to get out of Taichi's room. He felt empty and frightened here, surrounded by someone else's home, someone else's happiness. 

The way Taichi kept staring at him wasn't helping much either. No, it wasn't helping at all. 

Feeling more than just a little exposed, Yamato did what he did best: he glared at Taichi. 

The other boy only smiled, chocolate eyes warm, and Yamato shivered. He didn't know what this strange boy wanted from him, but he was determined that Taichi wouldn't get it, whatever it was. 

So Yamato did what he did second best: he made a scalding, sarcastic comment. 

"Are we actually going to work on the project, or are you just going to stare at me all day?" 

The icy words did nothing to faze their target. 

"Of course not, Yamato," Taichi replied mildly, "it would be rude to stare." 

Yamato suppressed a tired sigh. 

_You want to be kind. Don't. You want to be patient. Don't. I have to hurt you, before you can hurt me._   


OOOOOO   


"You need to balance each half reaction with hydrogens and oxygens. You need to cancel the electrons on either side. You need to stop staring at Ishida Yamato, Yagami, and pay attention to the board." 

Taichi was annoyed. After all, there were only about six girls drooling over the blonde at the time. And it wasn't as if he was looking because he was _attracted_ to the other boy, he reasoned as those same girls turned as one to send him glares. Sure, Yamato had the most incredible sapphire eyes he'd ever seen, and that mass of sun gold hair was just _begging_ to be touched, but really, he wasn't interested _at all_, couldn't care less about how that soft, pale skin would feel under his hands... 

No, Ishida Yamato was merely a challenge. 

If there was one thing Taichi liked as much as soccer, it was literature. _Antigone_ and _The Wars_, _Othello_ and _King Lear_. All explorations of human nature, imitations of life. He'd started writing, snatches of words here and there, reflections, nothing major, just snapshots of the people around him. But he always moved on. No one interested him long enough. They were too easy to understand, transparent. 

Yamato was not transparent. The blonde was a walking mystery, beautiful, elusive. Worthy of being preserved on paper. If he could only see past the icy walls, understand why the other boy acted the way he did... 

"YAGAMI!" 

He looked up sharply. 

"Good," a pointed look at the blank page that should have been his notes, "now, as I was saying, we are nearing the end of topic two. You've had three days to work on your projects, and they should be pretty much finished. I expect them to be handed in tomorrow morning. No lates will be accepted." 

The last sentence seemed to be directed at Taichi, and the boy blinked innocently. 

But he found his gaze fixed upon his lab partner a moment later, wondering if the other was as worried as he himself felt. They've barely started on the project, Yamato having made an excuse to leave his apartment quite early on that evening three days ago. All attempts to speak to the blonde since then had failed. And now, taking in the other boy's blank expression and indifferent posture, Taichi wondered if Yamato cared about his grades at all. 

He was reaching for his bag when the paper ball hit him squarely in the head. Another glance towards the blonde showed Yamato to be studying the board intently. Puzzled, Taichi smoothed out the crumpled piece of paper. 

_Meet me at your locker after school_.   
_ - I_._ Y_. 

He _did_ care, after all. Taichi grinned, not wanting to examine too closely the little bubble of happiness he felt, and pocketed the note. 

The rest of the day was uneventful. He fell asleep in Math class _again_, was late for gym class _again_, and for the first time in his life, paid absolutely no attention to the English teacher; Yamato was sitting right in front of him. 

Leaning casually against his locker after the final bell, it occurred to Taichi that he would have no reason to see Yamato again after the next day. He was so focused upon coming up with a convincing excuse to get closer to the blonde that he didn't realize Yamato was late until fifteen minutes later. 

Taichi looked around the hallway anxiously. There, was that a glimpse of shining golden hair at the end of the corridor? Taichi blinked. Yamato was moving rather fast. And was it just him, or were there little tiny dots following the other boy? Yes, it did look like a mass of... 

"Running, screaming girls," Yamato finished the thought for him, and that's all the warning Taichi got before he was grabbed by the arm and dragged alongside the blonde. 

Even with all his soccer training, Taichi found it difficult to keep up with his slender companion. 

"Ishida Yamato!" They heard a scream, "you can't leave yet! You haven't promised to marry me OR write a song for me!" 

Yamato, if at all possible, ran even faster. 

"Please," Taichi gasped, "the...bus..." 

Yamato didn't even bat an eyelid at the plea and poor Taichi was almost slammed into the wall as they rounded a corner, flying right past the bus stop. 

_Oh well_, he thought unhappily, _I need the exercise anyway_. 

The blonde didn't stop until a good ten minutes later, when even the sounds from the busy streets were muffled by the number of quiet neighborhoods they'd passed. 

"I think we lost them." 

_You THINK?_ Taichi thought savagely, but he was too busy catching his breath to speak his mind. 

His companion led the way to the apartment without a backward glance, and Taichi followed wordlessly. 

There was no denying it. The place was small, bare, _cold_. It was the kind of cold that reminded Taichi of Yamato's eyes. 

"Would you like something to drink?" 

"Yes, please." 

Pause. The blonde looked at him, one golden eyebrow raised. 

"What?" 

"You didn't tell me what you want to drink." 

"Oh." 

"Well?" 

"Do you have...water?" 

Pause. 

"Yes...I think I can manage to find some..." 

"...all right then..." 

Taichi escaped to Yamato's room before things could get worse. It looked disturbingly empty. One bed, neatly made, a few books on the desk, and a guitar case in the corner. There wasn't even a mirror. The walls were white, devoid of anything save one picture above the bed. 

Taichi stepped closer. 

There were four people in the picture. Yamato was the only one not smiling. He looked to be about seven or eight. There was an even younger boy beside him, Yamato's brother, Taichi realized. The resemblance between them was unmistakable. The boy must have turned at the last second to look at his older brother, adoration swimming in the light blue eyes, tiny lips parted in childish laughter. Their mother rested both hands on the younger boy's shoulders. Her smile was strained. Yamato had her eyes. And behind them all was a tall, dark haired man. He looked faintly out of place, standing with golden haired angels, but his teeth were flashing white, and there's something handsome about the way his eyes glittered. 

"What are you looking at?" 

Startled, Taichi turned to see Yamato at the door, a glass of water in each hand. 

"Just...I...is that your brother?" 

Blue eyes narrow. "Yes." 

"Does he have a name?" 

"Takeru." 

"Oh...um...where is he?" 

He'd asked too many questions. Taichi could see it in the way the other boy's body tensed, in the way he twisted his lips. 

Bravely, though, he plunged on. "It's just that...well...this apartment's kind of small...and I'm...curious." 

"He lives with my mother." 

Taichi was stunned by the bitterness in Yamato's voice. It sounded almost like Takeru had been murdered. 

"Your parents are...divorced then?" 

Those eyes flashed, and Taichi decided that Yamato looked good when he's pissed off. 

"What do you think?" The blonde muttered, turning away and effectively ending their conversation. 

It didn't take long for Taichi to arrive at the same conclusion he'd arrived at a thousand times before: Chemistry was boring. Lucky for him, though, Yamato was doing most of the work. 

The blonde was completely ignoring him, something Taichi had gotten used to by this time. But that didn't mean he had to like it. After numerous failed attempts at making conversation, he finally settled on something he was comfortable with. 

"I'm hungry." 

That got Yamato's attention all right. 

"What?" 

"I said I'm hungry." 

A sigh. "Do I have to feed you?" 

"Well, it _is_ supper time and we are nowhere near to finishing this, so yeah, the answer is _yes_." 

"Okay, would you like to have supper here?" 

"Yes, please." 

Pause. 

"What?" 

"You didn't tell me what you want to eat." 

"I'm sorry. I wasn't aware of this being a restaurant. I shall be placing my order now." 

Silence. 

"Well?" 

"You really have no sense of humor, do you?" 

"Don't try my patience, Yagami." 

"Fine. Do you have...um...food?" 

"...Why do I even bother?" 

They moved to the kitchen. Taichi blinked as the blonde donned a black apron. It made him look suddenly much paler, and Taichi decided he didn't like it. Yamato needed something more cheerful, like pink. Yes, Taichi blinked again, Yamato should wear a pink apron. 

He mentally kicked himself, and settled down to watch the other boy cook. 

It was like an elegant dance, except Yamato moved more gracefully than any dancer Taichi had ever seen. His eyes followed the slender, delicate hands, enchanted. 

"This is really good," Taichi said twenty minutes later, taking a huge bite. 

Those lips twisted again, and he realized Yamato didn't believe him. 

"Hurry up and finish it. I'll be in my room." The blonde turned to go. 

"Wait. Aren't you going to eat?" 

Pause. 

"Do you _always_ ask annoying questions?" 

"Nope, I think it's just you." 

Yamato opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to decide Taichi was not worth talking to, and left the kitchen. 

Taichi smiled.   


OOOOOO   


2:30 AM 

"Yamato." 

"What?" 

"It's two thirty in the morning." 

"So?" 

"We don't _have_ to do the bonus question, you know. That's why it's a bonus question." 

"Yes we have to do it. It's taunting me." 

"...Taunting you?" 

"Shut up, Yagami." 

"Now that's just rude." 

Silence. 

"Yamato?" 

"HA! I found you, you little sneaky nitrate ion. So the strongest oxidizing agent is a combination of hydrogen and nitrate ions. And if hydrogen's oxidization number doesn't change..." 

"Yamato." 

"You can go to sleep if you want to. You phoned your mother, didn't you?" 

"Yeah, like FIVE hours ago." 

"Sleep then." 

"And where would I sleep?" 

"What the hell? Why doesn't this balance? It's not supposed to work out like this!" 

"Yamato?" 

"Sleep on the couch...Father's bed...the floor...I don't care..." 

"Can I have your bed?" 

"What?" 

"I'm sleeping on your bed." 

"My...bed...? STUPID electrons! Cancel, damn you! CANCEL!" 

Sigh.   


OOOOOO   


3:30 AM 

"You figured it out then?" 

"What the hell are you doing in _my_ bed?" 

"I'm glad you finally beat the electrons." 

"Get out of my bed." 

"No. _My_ pillow. _My_ blanket." 

"You are being irrational." 

"You are the one who just spent three hours on a question we didn't even need to do." 

"FINE! Steal my bed. I'll sleep in Father's room." 

"Um...Yamato, you are still here." 

Yawn. "Going...to...sleep...in other...room..." 

Yawn. "Maybe...you...should get up...first..." 

"Sleep..." 

"Yeah..."   


OOOOOO   


8:00 AM 

"Shakespeare explores the many aspects of human pride in his play _Much Ado About Nothing_. He uses various techniques..." 

Let it never be said that Ishida Yamato was a morning person. 

He crumpled yet another attempt at the English essay, throwing the paper ball into the trash and glaring at his pen as if it were to blame for his lack of sleep. Leaning back against the tree, he reached for his cup of coffee. 

It wasn't there. 

Slowly, Yamato raised his gaze. 

Big brown hair, chocolate eyes, idiotic grin. 

_Oh_. _Crap_. 

"You ditched me." Taichi's voice was entirely too pleasant. 

"Well..." 

"You pushed me into a crowd of rabid fans and ran to school all by yourself." 

"But you weren't moving fast enough." 

"I see..." 

"Give me back my coffee." 

"I don't feel like it." 

"Give it back." 

"Coffee's not good for you, Ishida." 

Pause. 

"No, of course not. It inhibits fine muscle movement, increases alertness, and makes the glomerulus of your kidneys more permeable to water. Therefore, you lose more water than is normal and end up somewhat dehydrated." 

Silence. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

"I have no idea. But it usually scares people away." 

"I see..." 

"What are you doing?" 

"Sitting down beside you." 

"Go away." 

"Oohh, _that_ essay. You are only starting _now_? It's due tomorrow." 

"I told you to go away, Yagami." 

"You are cute when you are mad." 

Pause. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I think you heard me." 

"What is your problem, Yagami?" 

"I think the question is, what is _your_ problem?" 

"I don't have a problem." 

"Well then, neither of us have a problem." 

"I want you to leave me alone, Yagami." 

"You know, all those torn up pieces of paper in the trash look awfully like the paper you have on your knees." 

"Do you have difficulties hearing me? Leave. Me. Alone." 

"I think someone's having trouble writing a certain essay." 

"All right, that's--" 

"That someone needs help." 

"Look here, Yagami--" 

"What was that? You want me to help you with the essay?" 

"WHY YOU--" 

"Sure thing, Yamato my friend. You can come to my place after school." 

"STOP--" 

"I'll wait for you after the bell." 

Ishida Yamato was furious. Who the hell did Taichi think he was? He turned to the other boy. 

Taichi wasn't there, _and_ he's taken the coffee with him. 

For a moment, all Yamato could see was red. He held his breath and counted to ten. 

_Bastard_.   


OOOOOO   


Author's Note: Screw it. This chapter's getting on my nerves. I'm ending it here. I've rewritten it enough to last me a life time. It _is_ amazing that I'm updating, isn't it? 

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


	4. Chapter Four

Standard Disclaimer: Don't Own It. 

Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed. I thrive on feedback. And...YamatoFangirl, all I have to say to you is that I hope your family hid all the knives REALLY well... 

I actually think this chapter's somewhat okay, surprised? O.o 

My Inferno 

Chapter 4 

3:47 PM 

Yamato peered around the corner. 

Nothing. 

So far, so good. 

One more hallway, that's all there was between him and freedom. Just a little bit further... 

"Your coffee tasted horrible." 

Yamato jumped, and bit back a stream of curses. 

Taichi leaned casually against a row of lockers. "You didn't think I'd just _leave_ without you, now, did you, Ishida?" 

"Stop pissing me off, Yagami." 

The other boy smirked. "Did I ever tell you that you are cute when you are mad?" 

"What the hell do you want from me, Yagami?" 

"You are blushing." 

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" 

Pause. 

"You know, being _this_ anti social can't be good for you." 

"I'm _not_ talking to you. I'm going to close my eyes and count to ten. You are not going to be here when I open them." 

_[Ten seconds had elapsed]_

"Oh, pretending I don't exist now, are we?" 

Silence. 

"Fine then, _don't_ accept help for your essay. But I never thought of you as the type to be afraid." 

Pause. 

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" 

"I thought you weren't talking to me?" 

"I am _not_ afraid of you, Yagami." 

"Really," the other boy leaned close so he could stare into Yamato's eyes, dropping his voice down to a provoking whisper, "then why won't you come with me?" 

"Because..." 

"Yes?" 

"I'm just..." 

"Scared?" 

"No," it was a hiss. Taichi was attacking his _pride_, and Yamato couldn't have that. 

"Ok, then," the other boy gave him a gentle push in the direction of the exit, "prove it." 

_Don't be patient and don't be kind. I'll never forgive you_.   


OOOOOO   


Yamato shivered. 

What had possessed him to come here? He didn't belong, didn't _want_ to belong. This place. It was warm and loving and it _commanded_ him to let his guard down. This place was dangerous. 

The woman before him _smiled_. The look in her eyes, he had seen that look when Mother looked at TK. It was _affection_. 

He trembled. 

"Are you Taichi's new friend?" 

She wasn't supposed to be nice. Nobody was supposed to be nice. 

"Where...where's Taichi?" 

He was ashamed. Ashamed that it was Taichi's presence he clung to now. He'd sank low enough to reach for the other boy as the only familiar thing in this terrifying new world. He didn't know how to act, didn't know what to say. 

"Oh, he just went to his room to drop off his stuff." 

Awkward. The very air was awkward. She must have sensed it too. Was she displeased? Her son must be so much better than he was. 

"So," she turned back to the kitchen counter, "I'm trying this new recipe tonight, and it's gone completely wrong." 

A short little laugh, _real_, not forced. 

Her face was so kind. It made him want to cry. For no reason at all it made him want to cry and seek comfort in her arms. And she _would_ comfort him. He knew, without knowing _why_ he knew, that she would draw him against her warm body and whisper soft, tender things into his hair, as if he were her own child. 

_Hold me_, he wanted to say, _hold me and let me cry_. 

"Just look at this sauce," she held out a bowl, "a _complete_ disaster." 

He took a look. It wasn't that bad. He knew exactly how to fix it. After all, hadn't he made those same mistakes when _he_ first started making sauces? 

Yamato caught himself just in time. There, they'd almost tricked him! Almost made him smile shyly and offer to _help_ her with dinner! But he wanted to, he realized. He wanted to get closer to her, to see what it would feel like. He could pretend, for a few minutes at least, that she was _his_ mother, that this nice, warm, place was _his_ home. He wanted to see what it would feel like to cook for someone else, an adult, without being _afraid_, without the pressure over his chest that made it hard to breathe. 

"I...I can try to fix it," his voice sounded small. Frail. 

She looked surprised, but in a good way. "Really? You know how to cook?" 

"I...I can try..."   


OOOOOO   


Taichi walked down the hall, pausing midway. It smelled _good_. Something was completely wrong here, because he could count using the fingers of his left hand the number of nights his mom _didn't_ burn something. 

There were sounds in the kitchen. Walking silently past his sister's bedroom, Taichi looked into the kitchen. 

Yamato was stirring something on the stove while his mom looked over the boy's shoulder. She had a loose arm around his waist in a motherly hug and the blonde didn't even notice. For the first time since Taichi met him, Yamato looked comfortable. 

Taichi smiled.   


OOOOOO   


10:00 PM 

"I _hate_ English." 

"It's not that bad. You just have to explain your argument there." 

"Can't I do it with an equation? Like...'F = ma'?" 

"No, Yamato. And what the _hell_ is that?" 

"You haven't taken Physics, have you?" 

"No." 

"So you don't know about Newton's laws?" 

"No." 

"And you don't really care, do you?" 

"No." 

"Then shut up, Yagami." 

"...Okay..." 

"...His pride proved to be an obstacle in their love...and this act of the play might have served as an ideal beginning for a tragic play..." 

"Don't forget to define the terms." 

"But how _would _you define love? I mean--" 

"Yeah, how would you?" 

Pause. 

"Taichi?" 

"...Yeah?" 

"Stop staring at me." 

Pause. 

"This really bothers you." 

"What?" 

"Being noticed by other people. You kept squirming at dinner, as if we were all plotting to kill you." 

"I'm not used to this, that's all." 

"Then what are you used to?" 

Silence. 

"Yamato?" 

"We should get back to the essay."   


OOOOOO   


1:00 AM 

"In conclusion..." yawn, "...in conclusion..." 

"Focus, Yamato, focus!" 

"What's my essay about again?" 

Taichi banged his head against the wall three times. 

"Pride, Ishida. You are talking about _pride_." 

Yawn, "...right...so...in conclusion..." 

Sigh. 

"It's due first thing in the morning, Yamato. You _have_ to finish it now." 

"I...I knew that...just...your pillows are so comfortable...and...Mmmm..." 

"Yamato!" 

"Conclusion...pride...Mmmm..." 

Pause. 

"Yamato?" 

"...Mmmm?" 

"You are beautiful when you sleep." 

"...Mmmm..."   


OOOOOO   


7:52 AM 

"CRAP!" 

"...Hmm? Somebody pushed you out of bed, angel?" 

"I haven't finished the essay AND we are going to be late!" 

"Yamato..." 

"I'm going to be KILLED! This is just..." 

"Yamato." 

"What am I going to do? I don't even have an EXCUSE!" 

"Yamato!" 

"WHAT?" 

"I finished the conclusion for you AND mom's driving us so we are _not_ late." 

"Oh." 

"You need to relax, darling." 

OOOOOO   


"This school is _way_ too big." 

Taichi looked around the school grounds. He kept telling himself he just wanted some fresh air, just wanted to see all the parts of the school he's never noticed before. But his eyes against his will scanned the area for golden hair. Golden hair and blue eyes. 

Taichi stopped suddenly. He thought he could hear something in the distance. 

A harmonica. 

He followed the lonely melody to a little clearing in the trees surrounding the school. Here the red yellow leaves of autumn fell like rain and swirled with the wind. Here Taichi found his golden hair, his blue eyes. 

The song ended as Taichi watched, and Yamato lowered the instrument from his lips. His eyes remained closed while the sun showered his slender frame with light. Leaves danced around him as if they too knew him to be a fallen angel. 

The blonde leaned back against a tree and smiled. 

Yamato was gone then, in Taichi's eyes. Yamato had disappeared, and was replaced by _Yama_.   


OOOOOO   


_"He looked like Adonis, like he could be carried off by Aphrodite the goddess of love at any moment. Except Adonis wasn't filled with darkness, except Adonis couldn't ever smile like that, and shine with breathless golden light_." 

- _from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

  
__   
  
__

OOOOOO 

Author's Note: Bwaaaaaaahhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa. I need to write something more cheerful next time... 

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


	5. Chapter Five

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. 

Author's Note: Thank you for all your reviews! They really are very encouraging, and I love you all.   


My Inferno 

Chapter 5 

Yamato shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. 

He made a mistake. A huge one. 

When did Taichi get so close? When did he _let_ Taichi get so close? 

The Yagami apartment felt more like home than any other place he'd ever known. Taichi was so kind, too kind. 

It's only a matter of time before he gets hurt. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." 

"You are very quiet." 

"I thought you needed help with Math." 

"Yeah, but can't we just spend a _little_ time at the park? You look like you've never been on a swing before, Yamato." 

He wanted to disappear. Taichi had too much power over him. The other boy always managed to talk him into things he would have never done otherwise. They were good things, but Yamato had learned long ago that good things had no place in his life. He _couldn't _be happy, he just couldn''t. 

"Come," Taichi smiled, "just sit on the swing." 

Yamato wanted to. He really did. It was almost impossible to deny his starving soul this little bit of paradise. But he was in hell, and paradise didn't belong in hell. 

"I have to go." 

He avoided the brown eyes. They made him feel weak. 

"What are you talking about?" 

Yamato turned away. 

"I can't spend time with you anymore."   


OOOOOO   


_"Sometimes, after a great deal of begging from me, he would come over to my apartment and help me with my homework. He was always so shy around my family and I never could understand what he was afraid of. He always looked at my little sister with this strange sadness, as if she reminded him of someone. I used to just close my eyes and listen as his voice washed over me explaining some concept, or watch with great amusement as the fire in those eyes built up along with his frustration. I annoyed him with my lack of effort in the Science department. Yet there were times when he almost seemed to forget where he was as he sat with his knees drawn up against his chest, his head leaning against the wall, waiting for me to finish some nasty question he'd picked out especially for me. And I always thought, in those moments when his shields were at their lowest, that if he had wings he would wrap them around himself, that if he could he would heal the invisible wounds so deep inside."_

_- from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO   


Dreams. 

He had them once. They were like precious jewels in the palm of his hand. Treasures. 

He didn't know when they shattered. 

Hope. 

He had that too, back when TK still loved him as a brother, back when Mother still seemed to care, back when Father didn't hurt him. 

He didn't know when he lost it. 

Yamato gazed at the picture of his brother and drew a shuddering breath. 

Father was coming home that day.   


OOOOOO   


_"I admit I was shocked. The first time Yama pushed me away was scary. I thought I had done something wrong. Such a mystery...those eyes... It hurt. It really hurt. He did that to you, made you want with all your heart to be closer. I can never get close enough. And when he shuts you out, when he looks at you with steel in his eyes, it's like a thousand sharp edges pressing into your heart... But it's how he deals with things. He's too proud to ask for help, too proud to show any kind of weakness, however small. He can't fool me, though. Listen carefully, and you'll hear the desperation in his voice. Look closely, and you'll see anguish. When he's calm and collected, when he tries with all his might to flee from you, that's when he's most vulnerable, that's when he **needs** you. So no matter what he said, no matter what he did, no matter how much it hurt, I always __went back to him. Always."_

_- from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO   


The door wasn't locked. It wasn't even closed properly. 

Taichi peered through the crack and paused. He had to do this. He didn't know why, but he just had to do it. After all these days... 

He slipped into the apartment, as silent as a ghost, and froze. 

Yamato stood at the end of the hallway. He was carrying a laundry basket full of dirty clothes. The fine strands of golden hair were sweat soaked and fell limply into his face. The brilliant blue eyes were dull and half closed in exhaustion. There were dark shadows under them. Taichi had never thought of Yamato as thin. Slender, perhaps, but not thin. It's the way he carried himself: with infinite grace. But it's different now. The other boy looked frail and skinny and just _so_ pale, as if he was fading... 

The black T shirt he wore didn't help the image. It was way too big for him, coming down almost to his knees. It made him look dead. 

He wasn't wearing anything else. 

They stared at each other. 

"You look terrible." 

Yamato ignored the statement, and went into the laundry room. 

Taichi's anger came back to him. "Ishida Yamato!" He yelled, "You are cruel! You are just too cruel!" 

He followed the blonde, shaking with rage. 

Yamato turned on the washing machine, pausing briefly to glance at Taichi's face. 

"Yes," he said, "I am cruel." 

"I thought we were friends!" 

"I don't have friends." 

"You can't shove people out of your life! You just _can't_!" 

"I can, and I have." 

"Well I'm still here!" 

"I told you to leave me alone, Yagami, and that's exactly what you will do." 

"Something's wrong." 

Yamato was too calm. "What could possibly be wrong?" 

"That's what _you_ are supposed to tell _me_." 

Finished with the dirty laundry, Yamato grabbed another basket of clean, damp clothes, and started to hang them up by hand. The dryer seemed to be broken. 

"You look dead," Taichi said. 

A wicked smile. "Maybe I am." 

"What is _wrong_ with you?" 

"You don't know me, Yagami, and I want it to stay that way." 

"PEOPLE CALL ME TAICHI!" 

The dark blue eyes were unreadable. 

"Go home, Taichi." 

"You think I'm just going to give up on you?" 

"Yes." 

"Then you don't know _me_ at all, do you, _Yama_?" 

The shirt in Yamato's hand hit the floor. 

"What did you call me?" 

Taichi let his eyes burn into Yamato's. 

"I called you _Yama_." 

And an ice wall seemed to shatter between them. Those eyes weren't unreadable anymore. They were an ocean of pain and fear and anger. Yamato was losing control. 

"_Get out_." 

Taichi took a step back. "What?" 

"Get out," Yamato whispered, and ran past Taichi to his room, slamming the door behind him. 

"Yamato!" Taichi tried the door, but it was locked. 

"I don't ever want to see you again." 

Taichi heard the words, but he wasn't going to let Yama distance himself anymore. He was going to come back. 

"I'll come back," he said.   


OOOOOO   


_"Yama?"_

_ "Yes, TK?"_

_ "Why does Mommy hate Daddy so much?"_

_ "It's not hate. People do strange things sometimes, strange things..."_

_ Shadows slid over the darkened room. The boy wrapped their blanket tightly around them, holding his younger brother close. The shouting continued downstairs while the storm battered at their window._

_ "Yama?"_

_ "Yes, TK?"_

_ "Will you ever leave me?"_

_ "I'll only leave if you want me to."_

_ "Then I don't ever want you to leave. You are my guardian angel, aren't you?"_

_ "Always, TK. Always."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Because I love you."_

_ Glass shattered downstairs, followed by long, hateful screams._

_ "Yama?"_

_ "Yes, TK?"_

_ "I don't want anyone else to ever call you Yama."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Because it's my name for you. It's special."_

_ "Yes, yes it is."_

_ "I want you to be Yama forever."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Because I love you too, Onii-chan...forever..."_

It was the last night they shared together. They never even got the chance to say good-bye.   


OOOOOO   


Yamato heard Taichi leave. He didn't look away from his brother's laughing face on his wall. 

He didn't cry, but there were tears in his eyes.   


OOOOOO   


Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


	6. Chapter Six

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. 

Author's Notes: :::cries hysterically::: I don't deserve all the wonderful reviews you people write. I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy! This story would have died a long time ago if it wasn't for all the support you readers have given me. So thank you! Very very much. 

This story is written for all of you. 

And um, I must ramble a little before getting to the story. I haven't forgotten about Enemy. (So YamatoFangirl, there's absolutely no need to kill me...no need at all...) It's just that I've run into a sort of block since Chapter Nine has a battle scene and I have absolutely no idea how to write it. I've read plenty of fantasy novels though, and I'll come up with something...soon. :::stares up at the ceiling and fails to define "soon"::: 

And also, I know it's been a long time since I updated anything. That's because my grandmother, who's gone back to China, (I'm Chinese, have I ever mentioned that?) was diagnosed with stomach cancer over the summer. It was so unexpected and a huge shock to our family. We went to Beijing immediately. No computer. No internet. No inspiration to write as my grandma goes through chemotherapy. I've been _really_ depressed. She raised me until I was ten and we are really close. So please pray for a wonderful old lady who is very precious to those around her. And forgive me for neglecting you all. 

My Inferno 

Chapter Six 

_"TK?"_

_The boy couldn't stop the smile from spreading over his face. It felt wonderfully strange. He hadn't smiled for years, not since the divorce._

_Not since the last time he saw his brother._

_"TK."_

_There was no response, and Yamato felt the smile slip from his face._

_The boys stared at each other, blue meeting blue. Brothers turned strangers._

_"TK." A woman's voice. She took TK's hand and looked at Yamato._

_Yamato took a step back. "Mother..." he whispered._

_"Do you remember what I've always told you, TK?" She was speaking loudly, sharply, her eyes never leaving Yamato's face..._

_She wanted him to hear every word._

_"Yes, mommy."_

_"He's a bad example for you, honey. He's the reason you don't have a whole family. He and that father of yours. Do you understand?"_

_"Yes, mommy."_

_"They are exactly alike, father and son. But you are like me, TK. You belong to me. Now come, you shouldn't be alone with him, and grandma wants to see you."_

_Later, Yamato would remember Mother's words and curl up into a tight, shivering ball. Later, he would remember TK's parting glance and bite his lips to stop the tears until he drew blood. But for now there was nothing, only numbness as the glass shattered all around him._

_TK let Mother drag him away. "Goodbye, Yamato."_

_And Yamato allowed himself to fall to his knees, allowed a single tear to trace the smoothness of his cheek, the last tear he would ever shed in more than six years. And at last, after the numbness had faded, after the burning in his eyes had weakened, at last Yamato began to understand the dark emptiness of his heart._

_Betrayed. His heart knew. It had been betrayed._

OOOOOO 

He was falling apart. 

Shattering...crumbling...alone... 

The front door slammed. Footsteps, coming closer. 

Cold...feverish...weak... 

_No, please. Not tonight...not tonight._

So many bruises, so many cuts. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to do _something_ to ease the misery. But everything's frozen...everything... 

_One night...let me go, just this one night._

He's never felt so frail, so tired. Years of physical and emotional torture were finally taking their toll. And what little health he'd managed to gain in the week of Father's absence was gone. What little strength Taichi's kindness had given him was drained away into nothingness. 

_Taichi..._

And he was ill. The unbearable aching over his entire body, the burning pain behind his temples, the icy coldness of his fingers and toes, the violent coughing fits tearing at his lungs, the fever making it so hard, so horribly difficult to think... 

_I can't take anymore, I can't. Please don't..._

The door to his bedroom burst open, and Yamato stared into Father's eyes. He didn't cringe, didn't look away, just stood stiffly like a stone statue with his face blank. But the hand gripping the back of his chair betrayed him. Father's gaze traveled from his face to that trembling hand, seeming to understand instantly that Yamato was afraid. 

Father took a step closer. 

_I'm not afraid of you. I am not.___

And made a disgusted noise in his throat. He threw one last careless glance over his shoulder, and left, slamming the door. 

And Yamato collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, falling weakly across his bed. 

It was just as well that Taichi seemed to have finally given up on him. Because Yamato knew, with absolute certainty, that he did not have the strength to push the other boy away a third time. 

OOOOOO 

He stood outside the door, listening. His hand touched the door knob, dropped to his side, then touched the door knob again. 

There was shouting and the sound of breaking china. Then silence. 

Taichi didn't know what to do. He wanted desperately to see Yama, but he was afraid of what he would find in the tiny apartment. 

Exactly three seconds later, the decision was made for him. 

Taichi jumped back as the door was yanked open, and the man from the picture on Yama's wall stood before him. He had gained more wrinkles over the years, and more weight. But the eyes that glittered angrily in the faint hall light was the same. 

Yamato's father pushed past Taichi and stalked down the stairs. 

All his confusion, his irritation melted away the instant Taichi looked inside. 

There were broken dishes on the floor. And Yama was leaning tiredly against the wall. 

Taichi went in, closing the door gently behind him. 

"Yama?" He spoke softly, touching the other boy's hair tentatively, as if Yama could shatter at any moment. 

Sapphire eyes opened slowly. His lips were dry and cracked. 

"Don't call me that," he murmured. 

Taichi swallowed. 

Soft. Everything about the blonde was suddenly so very soft. His voice, the dark blue of his eyes, even the way he held himself. Something was very very wrong. 

"Yama..." 

"What are you doing here?" Yamato tried to move away, but Taichi wrapped both arms around his waist and drew him close. 

"I told you I'd come back," he whispered against the soft golden hair. 

And it scared him, scared him so very much when Yama didn't fight, when the blonde simply laid his head on Taichi's shoulder and went limp, as if he couldn't hold himself up a second longer. 

"What happened?" Taichi asked, still in that comforting whisper. 

"It was my fault..." Yama sighed, "I didn't mean to drop the plate...but Father was in a bad mood...he got so angry..." 

"Yama...." Taichi said again, and the blonde seemed to hear the worry in his voice. 

"I'm fine," he lifted his head so Taichi could see his face, his beautiful eyes, "it's just been a very long day." 

And the deep ache in his heart made Taichi lift his hand to stroke the delicate skin. He cupped Yama's cheek and ran his thumb over those pale lips, tenderly, again and again. 

"Would you tell me nothing?" 

Yama's eyes closed as if he was falling asleep. "I would tell you," he murmured, "that you are warm..." he sighed, "...and that I'm tired...so very tired..." 

Taichi couldn't help it. He kissed Yama's burning brow, threaded his fingers through Yama's hair, pulled him even closer. 

"You are sick," he said, "can't you take care of yourself at all?" 

He lifted that fragile body and carried it over to the couch. 

"Stay with me," Yama whispered. 

Taichi covered him with a blanket. "I will. I always will." 

OOOOOO 

_"I was so blind. In trying to write about him, in trying to understand him, I made the best mistake of my life which was not a mistake at all. I forgot that it is impossible to understand someone the way you understand yourself, without loving them more than they could ever love themselves."_

_ - from _The Soul of Yama_, as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO 

Life was a tangle of strings tripping you. Life was the weight of the Earth on your shoulders. Life was a cold stone cage with no sun. If all you had was pride, would you still throw it away? 

He knew what they would think when they find his body. 

_Poor boy. Such a pity. Such a waste._

He'd always thought he could _endure_ it. And he did, for years. But the pain had grown so much, until it was bigger than him, until he wondered if he could ever recover from it, if he wasn't already broken. And he's beginning to realize that there would be no _escape_. Not now. Not ever. Not while he could still breathe and think and _feel_. 

_Men great of soul can bear the blows of heaven and not flinch.___

But for how long? 

OOOOOO 

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


	7. Chapter Seven

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. 

Author's Note: Thank you all for your reviews/concerns/sympathy. My grandma's doing relatively better now, having completed two treatments of chemo. They are letting her go home for a while, before continuing with the treatments. It's really difficult to treat this type of cancer because there is no tumor, and the doctors said there's no chance of her being rid of the cancer at all. I cried when I heard that. They are trying to extend her life span, that's all they can do. I know death is inevitable. But this is too sudden...too soon. She's only 72 years old. Grandma is as dear to me as my mother. I can't bear the thought of losing her. There's still time though, maybe a couple of years, and I intend to waste none of it. 

I'm sorry about your grandfather, YamatoFangirl. I can only offer you and your family my deepest sympathies. 

Everything's so depressing these days...including this story... 

My Inferno 

Chapter Seven 

The outside world had turned dark and quiet by the time Yamato woke up. He felt a tiny bit better, _comforted_, even. He'd dreamed that Taichi was here, that he'd been safe and warm in the arms of paradise. Because that's what paradise was, wasn't it? A soft soothing voice and gentle hands. There's no pain when Taichi's here, not in his dreams. 

Yamato was perfectly fine with dreams. 

He knew who he really was, despised himself with all his heart. And once Taichi found out how weak he really was, how disgustingly _pathetic, _then Taichi would despise him too, the way Mother despised him, the way TK... 

Yamato drew a sharp breath and stopped that train of thought. He wouldn't be able to bear it if Taichi turned out to be like TK. And he was sure the other boy _would. _Because that's what people did, wasn't it? Gained power over his heart for the sole purpose of shattering it. And it was terribly _amusing_ for them to watch, when he lay bleeding at their feet like a tiny broken toy, and they laughed when he screamed, because they _liked_- 

Yamato curled up and drew the blanket over his head. He didn't want to be hurt again. 

A sudden chill overtook his entire body. How long had he slept? When was Father coming home? He hadn't cleaned the mess of broken china in the kitchen, hadn't done _anything_, in fact... 

Yamato scrambled out of the sofa and dashed for the kitchen, heedless of his protesting body. He turned on the lights. 

And froze. 

The floor was clean, sparkling, actually. The dishes had been washed and dried, the food placed in proper containers and neatly covered. A quick look around the rest of the apartment told him the bathroom had been cleaned, and his homework was laid out neatly for him on his desk. 

His body swayed dangerously as Yamato finally realized the truth. It wasn't a dream. Taichi _had_ been here. Yamato didn't know what he said to the other boy, or even if he talked in his sleep. What if Taichi knew? What if he found out? 

"Leave me alone," Yamato whispered to the darkness.

OOOOOO

_"There are two of him. The Yama he wants you to see, and the Yama he really is. But what he himself doesn't understand is that over time they've become one, and that throwing away the mask now would be as painful and destructive as cutting off his right hand. It made him stronger, the ice and the walls and the cruelty that sometimes shines so brightly in his eyes. It is also killing him."_

_- from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO

_Have to keep going...can't stop...one foot in front of the other...it's not difficult Ishida..._

Yamato stopped anyway. His breathing was shallow, and his arms trembled with the weight of the grocery bags. The world passed him by. He wanted to give up, wanted to let go. 

Someone bumped into him as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk, sending one of his bags flying. 

Yamato stared at it blankly for a moment, feeling detached. He reached over slowly to pick it up with one pale hand, stopping abruptly when a tanned hand picked it up instead. 

Brown eyes stared sternly at him. 

"What do you think you are doing out here?" Taichi demanded, "And without a jacket!" 

Yamato scowled, and tried to get the bag from Taichi. The other boy swung it out of his reach, however, and took the rest of Yamato's burdens as well. 

"Answer my question." 

Why must Taichi always be so irritating? Couldn't he _see_ what Yamato was doing? What, the blonde was just carrying things in bags for fun? 

"I went shopping," he said crossly, but didn't feel like being sarcastic at the moment. It took too much energy. 

Taichi set the bags down on the ground, took off his own jacket, and draped it around Yamato's shoulders. "C'mon," he said. "I'll take you home." 

Yamato didn't nearly like that idea as much as the alternative, which involved grabbing his stuff and punching Taichi in the face. The other boy was treating him like a _child_, and whatever else he might be, Ishida Yamato was _not_ a child. 

"I'm perfectly fine on my own," he replied harshly. 

Taichi merely sighed, picked up all the bags in one hand, and reached out to take Yamato's arm. A brief struggle ensued, in which Yamato was stubborn and fierce while Taichi was patient and gentle. The little fight ended abruptly when a violent and painful coughing fit seized Yamato's thin form, and he lost his balance. 

Taichi caught him. 

"Let me go," the blonde gasped when he could speak again. 

"You can hardly stand," Taichi seemed angry. "You are extremely sick. What possessed you to even _think_ about going out?" 

"Had to go shopping..." Yamato mumbled weakly. 

He shivered in Taichi's arms and the other boy held him tighter. The part of him that could still think properly knew this was dangerous. Any contact with Taichi was dangerous. He should get away, but his muscles had ceased to obey his will. 

Taichi had dropped everything during Yamato's short period of violence. He picked the stuff up now, and keeping an arm around Yamato's waist in a way that was almost possessive, he helped the blonde to a nearby bench. 

"Why are you being so nice?" Yamato resisted the urge to simply melt into Taichi's inviting warmth. Frozen. He was supposed to be frozen. 

"Is it wrong to be nice to you?" 

There was a heavy silence. 

Yamato stared at a bit of yellowing grass. "Autumn is the season in which all things die." 

He'd wanted to startle Taichi with that phrase. Even now he wanted to push and push until the other boy gave up. 

But Taichi smiled kindly, tenderly, and there was that _affection_ again. The meaning behind that smile frightened him more than anything else. 

"Not all things die young, Yama-chan." 

And Yamato wanted to scream at him, wanted to wrap his arms around Taichi's neck and sob and sob and sob. He felt hysterical, because _nothing_ would ever be all right, _nothing_ had ever been all right. Taichi didn't know, couldn't even _guess_! What it felt like to want, with every fiber of his being, to _die_. Because there's absolutely no other way... 

He smiled back instead, coldly, because he was still frozen, and whatever pain he felt inside wouldn't leak out. Ever. 

Father was home when they got to his apartment. 

Yamato felt like laughing. It was so _funny_. Everything was so funny. But his eyes were serious when he looked at Taichi and asked without words for the other boy to leave. 

"Since when are you allowed to bring friends home, Yamato?" 

Amazing how malice could be expressed so _calmly_. 

"I'm talking to you, Yamato." 

Taichi shielded Yamato from it all, as if he could honestly _help_. 

"Go home," Yamato said, in a way that was not like him at all. And Taichi understood some of it, maybe all of it, because his eyes spoke a thousand promises when he left. 

Yamato laughed then, as Father came closer with murder in his eyes, and he didn't know why.

OOOOOO

_"He thought he was so clever. He honestly believed I couldn't read his eyes. As if I couldn't see death trapped in sapphire, as if I was blind to the anguish twisting his face...I knew then, clever Yama-chan. You betrayed yourself after all. That night on the bench when you wanted to do so many things, but did nothing at all, that night when I saw the truth in your Father's eyes._

_Sometimes I hate myself for not seeing it sooner, for letting Yama suffer so long. But I know it's a miracle that I saw it at all, for he hid so well. And the worst part was he **wanted** to suffer. He didn't know it himself, but he thought he deserved the punishment when no soul should ever have to live like that, with that. It is both the most beautiful and the most tragic thing about him. Given multiple numbers of roads, Yama would undoubtfully choose the hardest one. You could say he's trying to redeem himself, like Hercules and his labours. But I know better. Yama's lost without pain.___

_Oh my little Yama-chan, if only you would take the tears I shed for you. If only you had stayed an angel in heaven. If only I could take you away to the river of forgetfulness..._

_And tell you a thousand times, I love you."_

_-from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO 

Author's Note: :::Wails::: Yama, what have I done to you?! Wwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! 

Rubisco. ::sniff::: Is. An. :::blows nose::: Enzyme.


	8. Chapter Eight

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. 

Author's Note: It's been a while since I updated this particular story. I'm at the stage where I hate everything I write, again. After a couple of rewrites, this chapter looks somewhat presentable. I'm posting it before I have a chance to read it over again and hate it. I know you all want me to update Enemy. :::grins evilly::: Patience, people, patience. I'm having second thoughts about the ending. Probably not what you wanted to hear...heh...

In response to individual reviews:

Violet Cleric: You know, I can't read the first 2 chapters of my own story without shuddering. It certainly was NOT my intention to suggest Yamato hated performing. He was just tired and not looking forward to dealing with all the screaming clawing fans. He loves music. It was also not my intention to make TK so cruel. I went overboard with the angsty vocabulary, I believe. You have to understand that in this story TK has been raised by a very resentful mother who blames Yamato for her failed marriage. He would, of course, share some of that resentment. What I'm telling you now will be developed further along the story, if you choose to read the rest of it. As for TK having a bigger part in the story. The sequel to My Inferno will give him a place as one of the major characters. I hope this answers your questions.

Melissa-T: Your constant reviewing has been greatly appreciated! I love The Soul of Yama as well. I'm glad you like this story. Please don't hesitate to inform me of anything I should improve on.

kalizuta: The Soul of Yama is like a very long and detailed character sketch of Yamato written by Taichi. I mentioned earlier in the story that Taichi wanted to be a writer and that he studied people. Well, he studied Yamato and wrote a book analyzing the blonde's character. I hope that clears it up.

My Inferno

Chapter Eight

His breathing was soft, his heart fluttering weakly.

Yamato pressed his knees closer against his chest. The floor was hard and cold.

He was so weak and so hurt and so alone. Yamato wished desperately he could be numb again. But Taichi had changed all that, had made him feel again.

Taichi had killed him.

Bravely Yamato swallowed the despair rising up from deep inside and made his way to the bathroom. He wouldn't look into the mirror, wouldn't see what he had become. Instead he washed the blood from his trembling, cut hands and splashed his face. The water was cold and unforgiving.

He'd passed out last night. Couldn't remember how long it took. Didn't know how long the darkness lasted. Couldn't stop feeling Father's cold strong fingers digging cruelly into his shoulders.

_I'm late for school._

Clothes. He needed clean clothes. Hide his skin, his hands. Where were his gloves?

A dry sob escaped his closed throat and he half collapsed against the wall. This was the end of his strength, his reason.

He groped around, found his books, the homework he never started. He should probably eat something. Yamato stopped halfway to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair. His hair was a mess. He was shaking. Why was he shaking? Shoes, no shoes.

Yamato wrapped a coat tightly around himself, as if it could truly protect him. As if it mattered to him what happened now.

The streets were empty this late in the morning. Anyone looking would have seen a thin, frail boy walking slowly down the sidewalk. He held himself tall, delicate mouth set in a straight, commanding line. He was like a king who walked across the bloodstained battlefield and over the bodies of his fallen soldiers towards his enemy and certain death. Defeated in body only, exhausted to the point of no return, yet still proud, still determined to die with honor at all costs. Majestic. Beautiful beyond words.

The school yard was full by the time Yamato arrived. It was lunch break.

He strode automatically towards his clearing, where he had always found peace and comfort in the trees. He did not find that today. What he found was Taichi staring back at him with accusation, with sadness, with affection.

But not with pity.

Yamato smiled, and for the first time in years, it was without bitterness.

"How do I look?" He asked softly. Somehow, it wouldn't be ugly if he found out from Taichi. Somehow, the other boy was different from a mirror.

"Dull," Taichi answered. "You are tired."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "I am."

Yamato heard Taichi walk towards him and did not try to escape. He felt the other boy tug his gloves off, felt Taichi take his hands. He opened his eyes in time to see Taichi kiss gently the crimson lines curved into his skin.

He felt warm then, as arms wrapped tightly around him. Finally he was warm and safe again.

"I'm taking you away," said a voice.

"I'm supposed to be somewhere...school..."

Yamato tried to protest, tried to draw himself away from the nice darkness. But he didn't try very hard.

"Please, Yama. I need help with Math."

Yamato smiled. "You are always so good with your homework, TK. You hardly need me."

A seven year old TK smiled back. "But I miss you, Onii-chan. When are you coming home?"

"Do you really miss me, TK?"

"I love you, Yama."

"Then I'll go home now. With you."

He took TK's hand in his own, and walked into the blackness.

OOOOOO

_"You don't believe in promises anymore. They can be broken. They are how people broke past that icy barrier of your fragile heart. They were used to stab you. They betrayed you. Therefore, Yama-chan, I don't promise. I show you."_

_- from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO

"You don't believe me."

Hikari bit her lip nervously. She had never seen her brother like this. She saw it, of course, just as their parents saw it. Taichi was in love with Yamato. He would realize it sooner or later, and they would be there to support it when he did.

But no one expected to come home and see him outraged, grieved, sitting on his bed cradling Yamato's sleeping body tightly to his chest.

Such an accusation.

Yamato was abused, he told them. The blonde had come to school late that day and fallen asleep in Taichi's arms. Taichi brought him home.

Hikari looked at Yamato's tortured body, at mom, then dad.

She raised her chin. "Yes, Tai. We believe you."

OOOOOO

He'd woken up in darkness without knowing the time, the day, in Taichi's bed, in Taichi's room, with the other boy's presence all around him.

Panic.

"What are you doing?"

The door had opened. A shadow in the light from the hall.

"I have to go home," Yamato swayed slightly on his feet, draping his coat over his shoulders.

He tried to leave, but Taichi stopped him with an arm around his waist.

"I won't let you go back to him," the other boy said fiercely. "I won't let you punish yourself for things you never did wrong."

Yamato looked at Taichi with tired eyes. It had been such a strain over the years to pretend nothing was wrong. How could the other boy understand?

He struggled uselessly, like a trapped animal.

"I know he hurts you, Yama." That voice again, so low and soft in his ear. Dangerous. "I know everything."

And rage rose up in Yamato's chest. It gave him a little of his strength back, so that Taichi looked suddenly shocked.

"You know nothing!" He screamed and tore out of Taichi's arms, out of his house. Far away from all those people trying to understand him, trying to control him and to gain his trust only to throw it back in his face. He'd had enough. No more, he thought over and over again.

_No more._

He wasn't sure when he fell, only that suddenly he was staring up from the ground into the black sky, at the darker curls of clouds. There was no mercy. There never would be any. It would be better to end it now, while he still could.

But for this single moment, all he wanted was to cry. The tears were behind his eyelids, hanging over his eyelashes. Frozen. They'd been there for a long long time.

"Yama!"

Arms around him again. He hadn't realized how cold he was until he'd been enveloped in warmth.

"Don't run anymore, Yama, please. Don't hide from me."

Taichi held him so tightly, almost as if he cared. Yamato was still for a moment, listening to Taichi's wild heart beat. Then, almost quietly, a sob escaped his throat.

Why should kindness make him cry?

Yamato sealed his lips, screwed his eyes shut against the nameless sounds fighting to get out. He wouldn't let Taichi hear anything from him. He wouldn't show any more weakness before the other boy.

They came out anyway, only muffled: half screams, tiny cries, whimpering.

"Shh..." fingers in his hair, stroking so gently. "Let it out. You have to cry."

That's all it took for him to break. His body shook with the force of his sobs, until he couldn't stand it anymore, until his throat was raw from the misery.

"They hate me," he kept whispering, brokenly. "It hurts..."

Taichi rocked him gently. "I know..."

He could do nothing but cling to Taichi, the only solid thing in the mist.

"...I don't want to do this anymore...it's gone..."

"What's gone, Yama?"

The answer didn't come right away, but Taichi froze when it did.

"I wish I could be dead."

The blonde went on, his voice cracking from what could only be exhaustion. "It'll be easy. They wouldn't even care...maybe they'd be happy...TK..."

He looked up when Taichi gripped his shoulders suddenly, startled through his tears and dying sobs.

"_I_ care. Have you ever thought about that, Yama?"

He shook his head a little, sadly. "How could you care?"

Was that a tear on Taichi's cheek? It couldn't be.

"I care more than you think, Yama." The other boy whispered, and Yamato was suddenly frightened, so frightened. He didn't want to hear Taichi's next sentence, but the other boy said it anyway.

"I love you."

OOOOOO

_Idiot, moron, stupid, jerk._

There weren't enough names in the world for him to call himself. The moment the words left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.

Yamato's pale, tear stained face stared back at him. The blue eyes were bright with denial.

"No," the blonde crawled away from him, along the cold, damp ground. "No. You can't do this to me. You can't. You can't."

He struggled weakly to his feet, wiping his cheeks and shaking his beautiful, golden head.

"I'm sorry," Taichi reached for him.

Yamato took several steps away from him. He was calm all of a sudden, too calm.

"I have to go home." The words were said so clearly, as if nothing had happened, as if Yamato had never cried. "Father's waiting for me."

He turned his back on Taichi and took a few more steps.

"Yama!"

Taichi ran forward, leapt off his feet. He held out his arms just in time to catch that delicate body as Yamato fainted.

"I'm sorry," he said again, his lips against Yamato's forehead.

He lifted the blonde carefully, tucking Yamato's head under his chin, and silently disappeared into the night.

OOOOOO

_"He hated me for a long time after that night, as I knew he would. I had killed him all over again with three little words. In a flash everything he desired became selfish. For my sake and the sake of his honor he had to try to live. I proved him wrong when I was not cruel. To be loved by anyone for him was like the end of the world. And I loved him too much, for him to die."_

_- from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


	9. Chapter Nine

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. 

Author's Note - /Peeks out cautiously at angry readers/ Hee hee, long time no see /Ducks as rotten vegetables are thrown/ Well, there was an...English essay, and...midterms...and...I had...a cold! That's right, a cold which affected my typing capabilities and rendered me creatively helpless! And then I had to have writer's block for a long long time...that's right...  
You guys don't believe me, do you? - /Runs away/

Thank you to all those who reviewed.

In response to individual reviews:

Xubose - /Goes down on both knees and begs for forgiveness/ Sorry, sorry. Still alive here. You really don't have to worry about me leaving this story unfinished. I'm a perfectionist who annoys the hell out of me on a regular basis. And I can't imagine leaving _anything_, even if it's just my crappy writing, unfinished. Worry about how long I take finishing it, though, that's more of a problem...

Hirui: Updating...right now...

FairyofTwilight: I'd take Pocky. I love Pocky. And bribery works...fairly well...

Geminidragon: I'm sorry about your loss, and I guess it is better, in some ways, to know what is coming. Who can live forever?

KazamaFangirl - /Shies away from the super sharp knives/ You said in another review that you didn't like "The Taito Project". I'm not the least bit offended, but I sort of want to know why. Is there anything I should improve on? I would appreciate it if you could give me some constructive criticism. Much thanks!

My Inferno

Chapter Nine

He didn't wake up for a long time.

For days Taichi sat by that hateful hospital bed in that hateful hospital room, watching the feeble rise and fall of Yama's thin chest. The blonde looked dead in the white bed, surrounded by white blankets, golden hair spilled over white pillows. Taichi longed to see the alarmingly pale face dusted with rose, like when Yama blushed, longed to smooth over the cracks of his dry lips.

The doctors had given them a long list.

_Severe physical and emotional exhaustion, lack of sleep, malnutrition, extreme illness, infection of various knife wounds, severe bruising, internal injuries..._

Taichi wanted to cry.

A hand landed on his shoulder. Taichi looked up to see his mother's kind face. "It's all right," she drew him close. "I won't let anyone hurt him again."

The authorities had been informed, of course. Taichi had made sure Yama was never going to go back to his home again.

_Wake up, _he thought silently. _Hate me if you have to, but please just wake up._

There was something broken about the way Yama slept.

OOOOOO

It hurt.

Every inch of him. He wanted it to stop.

It hurt.

So difficult to breathe properly. He felt as if his lungs had stopped functioning. His eyes were too heavy for him to open. His own heart beat sounded slow in his ears, painful. Thump...thump...thump...

"...Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin. For to deny each article with Oath...Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception...That I do groan withal...Thou art to die..."

He couldn't understand the words. Could barely grasp the existence of the sound. But the voice was familiar, comforting. He clung to it.

"...Then Lord have mercy on me..."

Soft, that voice, so tender. He wished it were speaking to him, speaking _for_ him. He wanted it to caress the torn shreds of his soul, wanted...something.

A pause in the flow of words. Yamato frowned a little.

"Please wake up, Yama. Please." He'd never heard so much desperation in anyone's voice. "I love you."

Something stopped in him. Something made him stiffen at those three little words. A moment of recollection, a moment of realization and heart wrenching agony, and then the darkness conquered him once more.

OOOOOO

"You are reading Shakespeare to him."

Taichi smiled faintly at his sister, not responding to the comment.

"_Othello_? Really Taichi, you should read him something cheerful. Shakespeare's tragedies are too heavy for the heart. Try a comedy. _A Midsummer Night's Dream _or _Much Ado About Nothing_."

She watched as he brushed a strand of Yamato's hair out of his face, the touch of his hand as gentle as a soft breeze. "Yama doesn't understand comedies, Kari. There's so much more beauty in a tragedy. Yama sees that."

She couldn't help it. Hikari bit back a choked gasp and left the room. She locked herself in the bathroom and let the tears come.

_Please. Let them be okay. Let everyone be okay._

OOOOOO

The voice was back.

It left him for a while and he felt lost. But now it came back, and things were calm again. It felt strange to not have a face match the voice. He wanted to see...

Yamato tried to open his eyes. The voice faltered.

He opened them just slightly, but the blinding light forced them closed again. The voice stopped.

_No! _He thought. _Don't go. Don't leave me when I haven't even see you._

He forced his eyes open.

Sunlight. Brilliant, golden sunlight. And a tanned face. Chocolate eyes.

It took a moment. Only a moment.

_Taichi._

Memories, emotions, tears. Yamato trembled.

"Yama," he now had a face to match the voice, all right. He wished he had never woken up.

"Go away," he whispered hoarsely. Fear made his heart beat faster. He couldn't breathe.

_I don't want to be hurt anymore. I don't want..._

He shrank away from the other boy's touch and curled up tightly on his side.

_I don't want to live._

OOOOOO

_"Angels are full of forgiveness. You should know, Yama-chan. You are an angel. And surely you can forgive me for this little sin, of wanting to keep you, forever and ever."_

_- from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO

Yamato sat in his bed, leaning against an impossible number of soft pillows, bandaged hands folded neatly in his lap. The hospital gown hung too loosely over his frame. His room was no longer white. It resembled a garden of red roses, actually. Thanks to his fans.

Years ago, when some part of him was still alive, Yamato might have looked at the flowers. He might have cradled them, now that he finally had time, now that he was finally allowed to touch something so beautiful. But he didn't notice them. For days now he hadn't said a word, hadn't looked anyone in the face. He was determined to ignore the world.

It was strangely comforting to stay in the same position for so long, to be warm all the time, to simply _be_ without having to struggle for every moment of every day. He wouldn't have to think as long as he stayed like this, wouldn't have to admit he needed anything, anyone.

But he listened to Taichi's voice when the other boy read to him, closed his eyes when Taichi touched him. His heart beat too loudly when Taichi wasn't there. His hands trembled when strangers talked to him.

"I got you something."

He almost smiled, could almost feel the tiny sad curve upon his lips, but his mouth remained frozen. _What did you bring me, Tai?_

Something was brought up to his line of sight, and he focused on it, slowly.

It was another rose, white to contrast the crimson of his room. Yamato looked away as if burned by the beauty of its soft curves, by the innocence of its existence.

Taichi brought it close again. "It's for you."

He flinched when the other boy touched his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. _I don't want to think about it. Don't make me think._

"Everything's going to be beautiful for you now, Yama. I'll make sure of it."

_I don't want anything to be beautiful. I just want to stop feeling like...this._

Soft lips brushed against his cheek. His breath hitched in his throat.

"I'm not going to let you fade, Yama. Never."

A tear slid along his smooth skin. _I hate you. I hate you and I need you and I can't stop doing everything you want me to do..._

Taichi caught the tear with the rose. "Open your eyes, Yama. You have to try, for me."

"It's too hard," Yamato whispered.

"Sometimes, things have to get worse, before they can get better."

Yamato buried his face against Taichi's chest, and cried.

OOOOOO

_"I know him. He wanted to be loved, once. He wanted to be beautiful. He wanted to be free. Perhaps it's not too late. Perhaps I can still save the part of him I love most. My tragedy, that's what he is. My precious tragedy which will never end, so long as I am here, to hold it."_

_- from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


	10. Chapter 10

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. 

Author's Notes: I just thought that you all should know. My grandmother has passed away. The chemo she did failed and the cancer spread to her lungs. It has been very difficult for my family because she had been such an essential part in all of our lives. But I'm glad she'd stopped suffering now. My grandma was the kindest and most selfless person I had ever known, and it's hard to go on in a world without her. For all of you who have been praying for her, and for all of you who have shown sympathy, I thank you here, for her and for me.

I apologize for the delay in any of my writings. Also, any questions/concerns regarding the story will be answered in the next chapter. I just don't feel it's right to do it now, after telling you all such terrible news.

My Inferno

Chapter 10

"Hey, Yama."

He turned, slowly because everything felt so heavy, but he managed it. Taichi stood by his bed, arms laden with packages.

"See, here." He dumped everything on the bed. "I went shopping."

Yamato stared blankly at the pile of purchases. He wasn't really interested.

Taichi took something else from the inside of his jacket. "And I brought you lunch too. You must be sick of all the hospital food."

Actually, Yamato's diet before the hospital consisted only of a piece of sliced bread and a tiny amount of rice everyday. But he wasn't about to say anything.

"Hmm. I got you pasta, see? With tomato sauce and cheese. There's chicken caesar salad. Fresh fruit too, since the doctor said something about vitamins and stuff. I know how you hate all the coke I drink, so I only brought a bottle of water. There, that's everything now. I think."

It smelled good. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, Yamato caught himself actually _wanting_ to eat.

He took the offered box and plastic fork carefully, as if eating his first meal.

Taichi sat down beside him and watched every bite disappear with a hopeful smile on his face. It was beautiful, that smile. And Yamato found a strange urge to make Taichi smile like that again.

And when he was finished, when Taichi had forced every last bit of the fruit down his throat, Yamato felt a new feeling, of being full, satisfied, even. His body was warm where the food had gone. After years of eating barely enough to keep himself from passing out, Yamato had nearly forgotten what it was like to be full.

"Feel good?" Taichi asked gently.

"Hmm." Yamato let him take away the empty containers and settled down against the pillows.

Taichi flashed him another cheeky grin. "Wanna see what I bought?"

He seemed to take the silence as a positive answer and began to dig through the stuff. "Let's see."

Yamato's eyes widened as he took in a bag of brightly colored sweets, two warm looking sweaters, a dream catcher, five CDs, a small portable CD player, and several books.

Taichi held up the sweets first. "Because you need them." He said simply. Then he pulled a sweater over Yamato, who was too stunned to resist. "Because you are always cold." He hung the dream catcher over Yamato's pillow. "Because you have nightmares." He placed the CD player and CDs on Yamato's chest. "Because you love them." Then he picked up the books, looking at them. "Because you like it when I read to you."

Yamato looked down at the CDs. "How...how did you know what to pick?"

Taichi smiled again, that gentle, kind smile. And Yamato wasn't so afraid of the affection in his eyes anymore.

"We went to pick up your stuff today. You had only two CDs, but they gave me a pretty good idea of what you liked."

"You got my stuff?"

"Uh-huh. Which reminds me..."

Taichi was gone before Yamato could say a single word, digging out a set of car keys. He came back a few minutes later, and Yamato let out a strangled cry as he saw what the other boy carried.

Taichi laid the guitar, still in its battered case, carefully over Yamato's lap. "I know you missed it."

Yamato didn't say anything. His lips trembled helplessly as he touched the case. He opened the lid slowly, reaching out a hand to pluck the strings gently, one by one. He smiled.

Taichi walked over, threaded his fingers through Yamato's hair. "Give me a chance to make you happy?"

Yamato didn't answer, but his eyes shone.

Sitting back, Taichi watched very quietly as Yamato took hold of the instrument and began to play.

OOOOOO

_"The smile on his face when I gave him that old, battered guitar. I would never forget it. His lips curved ever so gently. But it made color return to his cheeks. It made his eyes sparkle the way I always wished they could. And I knew then that Yama wasn't lost, that he could still be mine. I want you to remember, Yama-chan. When you sing in front of thousands who scream your name, I want you to remember, that I loved you before I ever heard you sing, before I ever laid eyes upon your guitar. Would you have faith in me then?"_

_- from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO

"What's going to happen to me?" His voice was small, and he clutched his guitar tightly.

Taichi met his eyes intently. "They talked to your mother."

The reaction was immediate. Yamato's shoulders tensed and he clenched his jaw.

"But..." Taichi trailed off.

And Yamato's shoulders slumped. "She didn't want me," he finished for Taichi.

"Just as well," Taichi said fiercely. "Because you are coming to stay with us."

Yamato looked up. "I am?"

"Of course. We were actually worried we'd have to fight her for you."

Yamato looked away. "You...want me to live with you?"

Taichi lifted his chin to see his eyes. "Yes."

"Your parents and Hikari too?"

"Of course."

"But..."

"Do you want to stay with us, Yama?"

"I..."

"You said you would give me a chance."

The blue eyes flashed. "I never said yes!"

Taichi gazed back at him patiently. "You never said no."

Yamato softened. "I didn't..."

"Come with me," Taichi whispered. "Just a few months to see if you like it. Then do what you want. I won't stop you."

"Promise?"

Taichi kissed him lightly on his forehead. "I promise."

OOOOOO

They looked in the mirror together.

"I look terrible," he whispered.

Taichi pulled him close. "You look beautiful."

_Liar._

"Do you really think so, Yama-chan?"

He turned away. "Your mother is waiting."

Taichi leaned over his shoulder to whisper in his ear. "You will only look terrible if you believe you look terrible."

Yamato held very still. "I'm not afraid."

A hand snaked around his waist. "It's all right to be afraid. Just like it's all right to cry. Nobody's perfect."

Rigid, Yamato walked away.

"You'll see, Yama-chan," Taichi said to the empty room. "You'll see."

They left the hospital just as it started to rain.

OOOOOO

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


	11. Chapter 11

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. 

Author's Note: I finally got over that disgusting writer's block! Neeway, if you are still with me...  
Enjoy!

Thank you all for your kind support and words of ecouragement.

My Inferno

Chapter 11

_There's a hand on the wall._

It looked very thin. He thought maybe it could be broken easily. He didn't know, because he'd never tried to break it.

_It's my hand._

The skin was very white so that the scars appeared much darker. They glowed red in the dimness of the room.

_I closed the curtains because the sun hurt my eyes._

He relaxed his arm and the hand fell against his curled form silently, yet...not silently. Yamato shivered.

_The sun hurt my eyes because I am a shadow. Because I don't belong._

The blankets kept him warm. Taichi gave him so many. They were beautifully colored and so very soft. It made such a difference, being warm.

_Am I only half alive?_

He sighed, and turned away from the wall.

_Or half dead?_

OOOOOO

"I'm fine," he said. "Really."

Taichi didn't reply, pouring the medicine carefully into a spoon and holding it out to Yamato. The blonde opened his mouth obediently with a defeated air, and Taichi tipped the reddish liquid down his throat. Yamato tried bravely, but he could not stop himself from wincing at the horrible taste.

"Here," and Taichi tipped some water down his throat with hardly a pause. Yamato glared at being treated like a child.

The doctor gave him the all clear a week ago when they left the hospital, but Yamato's body remained weak and vulnerable, catching one kind of illness after another. Years of neglect and abuse had taken their toll, and Taichi sometimes wondered if the other boy would break with one wrong breath.

He reached out gently now to touch Yamato's brow. "How's your head?"

"I told you," the other snapped, "I'm fine."

Taichi frowned. "Your fever hasn't gone down, and you are still coughing. You look pale. Are you cold? I should make you some warm soup."

"Taichi...!" But the boy was already gone.

Yamato clutched the blankets tightly to himself and sulked. It was disturbing, to suddenly receive so much attention and care after almost an entire life of emptiness. It was...painful. He thought he'd lost too much to deal with this life, and any type of recovery, no matter how small, seemed a long, exhausting, and nearly impossible task.

He clenched his frail hands into loose fists, feeling as if he could just fade if he waited long enough. It's not wrong to want to wither away into nothing, is it? No one had ever cared before, why now...? Why...?

His heart beat slowed and his breathing grew shallow. _Would I be peaceful, if I died here?_

Then Taichi was there, fussing over him, adding still more blankets, taking his temperature, forcing food and more medicine down his throat. The soup went all the way to his stomach and sent waves of warmth to the very tips of his fingers and toes. And suddenly there's a different kind of warmth in his battered heart. It seemed to reach into him every time Taichi touched him so carefully, spoke so gently, and looked into his face with that soft expression.

_What is that expression? _He wondered sleepily as Taichi tucked him in. _Why do I feel so weak when you look at me like that? You are trying so hard to breathe life into me...so hard. Does that make me horrible? To be afraid of you?_

"Good night," Taichi whispered, brushing aside his bangs to lay a kiss upon his forehead.

_Why am I shivering?_

OOOOOO

Days crawled by slowly, as if some hand had gotten a grip on time and was refusing to let go. Taichi went back to school so that only his mom remained to look after Yamato during the day. It was bearable at first, as Yamato's body demanded sleep almost constantly. But as his health improved one tiny bit at a time, Yamato found himself with more and more time to think. Left alone in that darkened room with the silence pressing in from all sides, he had nothing but the misery of his painful past.

And sometimes when he least expected it, he thought he could feel a sharp, insistent pain in the middle of his chest, right where his heart should be. The sensation was often accompanied by a strange burning in his eyes and if he didn't try to stop them, little hurt sounds would escape from his throat. Once he'd felt something hot trickle down the corner of his eye, and he'd clawed at the pillow to stop more from coming. Despair was threatening to swallow him whole, and he didn't think he could possibly fight it.

It was on such an afternoon, when the pain in his chest was making him gasp, that there came a gentle knock on his door.

_Taichi? _He thought almost hopefully. The other boy always made it better, no matter how miserable Yamato was feeling.

But the door opened to show Mrs. Yagami standing there. "Yamato?"

He stiffened immediately, seeing suddenly in her a younger version of his own mother years before the divorce, when they'd all seemed happy. The pain in his chest worsened and he had to fight to prevent himself from flinching.

"Yamato?"

The voice brought him back to the present and he managed a questioning look.

"I have to go shopping for a while and the others won't be back for another half an hour. Do you think you'll be okay?"

His throat felt dry and he couldn't find his voice. Yamato nodded.

"You won't be hungry any time soon?"

He shook his head and forced a response from his lips. "No, I'll be fine."

Satisfied, Taichi's mother left his room. Yamato heard the front door close moments later. He turned away on his side and curled up. Why was he feeling this way?

It was just like before in the beginning, when he'd think about his brother and something dark and ugly would well up all at once to take and grab at him from the inside and squeeze until he thought he couldn't survive another moment. Only this was much worse.

He hadn't dealt with it before, because he'd always been too tired or too hurt or too weak for it to bother him for long. And when there was always _always_ something to do, to distract him, it had been easy to ignore the things happening deep inside.

He couldn't ignore it now, though, when there was nothing to do except lie here and stare at the ceiling and wait for Taichi to get home and feel himself losing steadily to the dark ugly thing inside...

Or maybe he could do something.

He needed to find that control again, what he used to have before he met Taichi, that iron will which made every part of his body bend to every command of his mind.

_Get up. _He said silently.

His body twitched in response, then went limp again.

_GET UP._

And he did, slowly and unsteadily because it had been so long since he'd been out of bed. The room spun for a moment and Yamato squeezed his eyes shut. _I can do this. I will do this._

The trip from his room to the kitchen seemed to take forever and he was thoroughly exhausted at the end of it. But the feeling was so familiar. Pushing, forcing himself beyond his limits to achieve some tangible goal. The dark ugly thing inside faded and left him alone for now as every bit of him concentrated on the task at hand.

Shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight, Yamato scanned the kitchen. There were dirty dishes everywhere. Mrs. Yagami must have left in a hurry. _I've been too much trouble for them. _He thought, suddenly guilty.

Reaching out tentatively with his right hand, Yamato lifted a bowl off the counter, and as he washed it carefully in the sink, an unwanted memory pushed forward into his mind until he was lost, drowning...

OOOOOO

_His hands were bleeding, turning the icy water into a sickening pink color. He didn't think he was trembling, but the dirty plate in his hands was shaking._

_Almost done. He thought. Just a little bit more._

_It hurt. He wished it would stop. His fingers were turning numb from the water. He wished the rest of him could be numb too._

_The front door slammed. But he wasn't done yet! Father was home and he wasn't done making dinner. Fear made him turn around too quickly and the heavy plate slipped from his numb, bleeding fingers. It shattered on the floor._

_A gasp escaped him, nothing more. He should be screaming. He wanted to._

_Yamato raised his head to look into Father's unforgiving eyes._

_I will be silent. Always silent._

OOOOOO

Taichi shut the door none too gently and bounded into the kitchen to greet his mother. Sunlight reflected off golden blonde hair and he froze.

Yamato spun around, and there was such a frightened, wild look on his worn face. The dish he was holding slipped out of his grasp and landed between them, shattering.

The blonde was on his hands and knees in an instant, gathering the glass pieces together frantically, trying to clear the mess as fast as possible, and when Taichi took just one step closer, Yamato flinched as if expecting to be hit. Blood dripped from the places on his hands where the glass had cut him.

Taichi reached out, gently but firmly, and took a hold of Yamato's wrists to stop him from hurting himself any further. Yamato turned his head away and shut his eyes, bracing himself as if he thought Taichi was going to hurt him.

"Yama," Taichi said softly into the other boy's ear. "It's me. It's okay. It's just me."

Yamato's breath hitched as if someone was twisting a knife in his heart, and a single tear made its way down his cheek from closed eyes. Taichi pulled him tightly into an embrace, rubbing his back, kissing his hair, whispering soothing, sweet words.

"You are okay," he whispered. "You are okay."

Yamato pressed his wet cheek against Taichi's, holding on to his comfort as if it were a life line.

OOOOOO

_"I was holding a ragged, hurt creature in my arms, and the only thing keeping him to this world was his faith in me to heal him, to make his little piece of the world a bit more bearable, and although he didn't know it yet, to love him the way he couldn't love himself. It was then, I think, that he finally realized his need for me. And though he could not embrace it, I would like to think that he accepted it. This is your home, my angel, here with me. This is your home."_

- _from _The Soul of Yama, _as was written by Yagami Taichi_

OOOOOO

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


End file.
